


someday you will say, i am so happy i feel like weeping

by rainny_days



Series: and they keep not letting go [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage, Post-Apocalypse, Tenderness, Transformation, Weddings, apocalypse weddings!!!!, body horror I guess?, daisira makes my soul hurt, excessive kisses, handwaving the apocalypse, if u can take tma you can def take this though, it may be the end of the world but they're still in love babes!!, it's not the focus or anything but it does happen, melanie and georgie are in love and FINE, post-160
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:43:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainny_days/pseuds/rainny_days
Summary: We never even got to get married.It shouldn’t be the first thing on Martin’s mind, as he watches the sky above him open up, gaping and searching andknowing, but it is.There isn't a guide on how to be engaged to the harbinger of the apocalypse. Martin takes it one step at a time.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: and they keep not letting go [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532165
Comments: 47
Kudos: 434





	someday you will say, i am so happy i feel like weeping

**Author's Note:**

> fun story, i wrote like 3k of this and realized that i was starting to write a buddy road trip that i absolutely did not have the qualifications to write, so i immediately chopped off like half of it and started over in this style instead. i'm so sorry, i just wanted to write apocalypse weddings.
> 
> also the whole 'entities not liking jonah's plan very much' thing is from a twitter thread lost to time, but jsyk i am definitely not smart enough to consider the ramifications of that.
> 
> quote from the mabel podcast, bc wlw mlm podcast solidarity. the full quote reads: 'Our future is pure and shining. I feel this surely, with every cell in my body. It is so close I can taste it. Grasp it in the greedy palm of my hand, in my clutching fingers. Its weight. Its purpose. Someday, Anna. Someday we will eat chorizo smoked potatoes, drink rose lemonade, feed each other fruit from our fingers. Someday you will ask me which dessert I want to buy at the bakery and I’ll say, all of them. Someday we will be flower shopping and you will touch my shoulder underneath the pink magnolia tree, and your hair will curl with delight, and you will say, I am so happy I feel like weeping. It is like a photograph in my mind, impressed upon me. It is engraved onto the core of my being. What have I done to earn you? What wouldn’t I do?'

(i)

_ We never even got to get married. _

It shouldn’t be the first thing on Martin’s mind, as he watches the sky above him open up, gaping and searching and _ knowing _, but it is. Distantly, he can hear people starting to scream, and thinks that he should probably be helping them, telling them as well as he can how to protect themselves. He can’t see running up to people telling them to gouge their eyes out being taken very well, though- and would it even work, now that the Beholding has well and truly taken hold of the entire world?

He doesn’t notice that, somewhere between his first thought and the next, he’d started running. Years in the archives haven’t given him much - half a dozen dead friends, an eternal fear of worms, the love of his tragic, probably soon-to-be-over life - but it has given him decent aerobic skills.

_ Jon _ , he thinks, the word ringing like a bell and reverberating through his entire body. _ Jon. Jon. Something must’ve happened to Jon- _

“_ Jon _ ,” he gasps out, breathless, as he flings open the door to their safehouse. Jon doesn’t answer, just lies on the floor, eyes - _ oh god, his _eyes - open and blank.

Martin falls more than runs towards him, already kneeling by the time he stops at Jon’s side. “Jon? Jon- come on- Jon, please, talk to me- Jon- _ please _-”

He prays to a god he knows doesn’t exist, prays to the ones that do exist, but don’t care. He tells them that he’ll do anything- join any one of them- burn this world down with his bare hands, if Jon would just _ wake up _-

“_ Please _ , Jon,” he turns his face into Jon’s hair, not bothering to hold back his tears. “ _ Please _ \- I can’t- I can’t do this _ again _ , I nearly _ died _ the first time, I can’t- come _ back _ to me- _ Jon- _”

And then. Jon, thankfully, miraculously, amazingly, _ wakes up _.

* * *

(ii)

“_ Martin! _”

The sudden shout has Martin breaking so quickly that he thinks he might have whiplash, and the car makes a worrying noise as it stops. “Jon, what-”

Jon is already throwing the car door open, scrambling out towards the side of the road. Martin quickly unbuckles his belt and throws himself after him, anticipating the worst.

When he reaches Jon, he’s kneeling beside a curled-up figure, clothes ripped and blood staining them head to toe. He stares.

“Daisy?”

Jon, looking the most grounded he has in hours, peers up at Martin helplessly. Martin immediately kneels down and lifts Daisy onto his back. She doesn’t so much as flinch, and Martin has to force himself to keep his voice steady as he speaks. “Help me get her to the car,” he demands, and Jon hurries to the door, opens it as Martin deposits the limp body in the back seats. Jon reaches out, presses fingers to her wrist.

“She’s still alive,” Jon breathes out, sounding relieved. 

Martin lets out an exhale of his own at that. “Okay,” he says. He opens his mouth to speak again, and the air is knocked out of his lungs as Jon gives him a hard shove into the car.

There’s a moment of vertigo, and then Martin sees the ground shifting beneath Jon’s feet.

He grabs Jon’s arms as a- _ something _\- pulls out of the ground, twists around Jon’s ankles. 

_ “W̸͈̫̰h͖͢a̟̦t̮̗̳͜ ͖͖̲̹͈̺̟d̮̥̟̺į̟͕̰͓͖d͈̩͚̬̙̖͝ ̡͍͚̰̝̮̲ͅy̟̻̜̺͙̣ͅo̠̹͖u ͓̳̮̣d̤̬̬̫̪͚̠o̲̠̝̘,̻̫̩̻̙̪͓͞ ͏̮̻̮A̵͓r̜͓̰̝̣c̗̤h̰i̭̞̲̘͎͟v͇is͍t̝͙̟ͅ?̱̩̬̖̻̗” _

Martin grips Jon’s arms harder, pulling with as much force as he can. Distantly, he can feel the car begin to sink beneath him.

Jon looks at him. “Martin-” he begins, but Martin gives another yank and the words turn into a sharp yelp as Jon is pulled into the backseat. Martin doesn’t hesitate before diving for the front seats, his hand scrambling for the stick as he presses his foot against the gas as hard as he can. The car jerks- once- twice- he can hear Jon slamming the car door on something wet, the squelching sound a background noise. 

_ “W̸͈̫̰h͖͢a̟̦t̮̗̳͜ ͖͖̲̹͈̺̟d̮̥̟̺į̟͕̰͓͖d͈̩͚̬̙̖͝ ̡͍͚̰̝̮̲ͅy̟̻̜̺͙̣ͅo̠̹͖u ͓̳̮̣d̤̬̬̫̪͚̠o̲̠̝̘?” _

The voice reverberates as the car finally begins to shoot forward, the sudden motion flinging Martin’s body backwards. There’s a muffled thump in the back, and Jon makes a noise as if he’d been punched.

“Jon?” he looks in the back mirror, and sees Jon pick himself up from the car floor. Daisy is a little crumpled where she had laid, unmoving through this entire ordeal.

Jon hisses. “I’m-” his eyes widen in the back. “Martin-”

Martin’s eyes look forward to see a figure on the road, half their body warped like melted wax. He doesn’t think before slamming the gas even harder, and Jon shouts as the car makes contact with the figure, slamming over it as they continue on the road. There’s a moment of silence, then Martin speaks.

“I think- I think I’m going to have to get to Basira a lot faster.”

* * *

(iii)

Basira’s face is blank when she sees the figure in Martin’s arms. “Where-”

“We found her on our way back. Not sure where she was going, but she wasn’t moving when we got to her.” Martin explains. Jon shifts from behind him as he speaks, but Basira seems too shellshocked to register his presence.

“Is she-” Basira darts forward when Martin begins to gently move forward, careful not to jostle Daisy, but stops just short of touching her. Her eyes move over Daisy hungrily, cataloguing every cut and bloodstain. Unlike Martin or Jon, Daisy seemed more or less unbothered by their long and extremely turbulent trip, the cuts and bruises on her body from before rather than after their various roadside encounters.

“Jon says she’s alive,” Martin tells her, and for a moment her face looks as if she were about to weep, before she pulls herself back together. Looks towards Jon.

“You-” she’s interrupted when Georgie moves past her, pulling Jon in from behind Martin with a fierce look on her face. Martin starts to move forward, but Basira stops him.

“Jonathan Sims,” Georgie says, voice steady and dangerous. “What the _ fuck _ have you done?”

“_ Hey, _ ” Martin snaps, seeing Jon flinch. “It’s not- he wasn’t _ doing _ anything, okay? It wasn’t his fault.”

Georgie turns her eyes towards him. “So you’re saying that he _ didn’t _ drop himself headfirst into some dangerous situation that he doesn’t understand?”

“Actually, _ no _ .” Martin matches her tone, voice clipped with anger. “He _ hasn’t _ , so _ lay. Off.” _

Georgie opens her mouth again, but a hand on her shoulder cuts her off. “Georgie,” Melanie says, soft, and Georgie seems to deflate all at once. Her eyes flicker over Jon, actually taking all of him - small, weary, shaking terribly, eyes bloodshot and wide - in, and softens with something like guilt.

“Okay,” she inhales, exhales. “Okay. That was- I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“I can’t blame you,” Jon murmurs, and Georgie shakes her head.

“No, Jon,” she says, gentle, now. “You were trying to get away, I shouldn’t have thought- well. I was _ worried _.”

“Georgie-”

“I was worried about _ you, _” Georgie moves towards him before he can finish, wraps her arms around him tightly. Jon stills, eyes wide, then curls himself around her, burying his face in her shoulder. Martin looks away, swallowing the residual anger in his throat. 

Basira takes Daisy from his arms, holding her heavy, muscled frame as if she were as delicate as a glass sculpture. “I’ll take her to the guest room,” she says.

Martin nods, and watches her as she goes, eyes flickering to Daisy as if she couldn’t help it. It was a familiar sight, and Martin hopes for her that Daisy will wake up sooner rather than later.

Melanie walks up to him, her eyes surrounded by cragged scars. Martin had heard what she’d done- Peter had related it to him in gleeful detail, it being one of the few times in the later stages of his isolation when the captain had found something _ interesting _enough to disturb his solitude with. He’d been worried for her, then, worried and hopeful all at once, strong enough that it was an effort to press the emotions into a box and let the numbness creep in once more. Seeing her now, looking frightened but steady in a way that he dimly remembers from what seems like a lifetime ago, he feels something like relief run through his veins.

“Melanie,” he starts, and she grabs his arm.

“Was it Elias?” she asks him, something dark in her voice. 

He pauses, stares. “Wait, you don’t know-”

Georgie detaches herself from Jon, and pulls him towards them. When they get close enough, Jon curls himself at Martin’s side, settling there in a way that still makes Martin press down a smile, despite everything. “Know what?” she asks.

Martin turns towards Jon. “You didn’t tell them about Jonah?”

Jon shakes his head. “You two said- I didn’t think you wanted to know anything about the archives,” he sounds quietly confused, and Martin wraps an arm around his shoulders without thinking, protective. Georgie looks at them curiously, but doesn’t comment.

“You were right,” Melanie tells him. “But whatever it is, it sounds like we don’t have much of a choice, now. So start talking.”

* * *

(iv)

It is midnight when Martin blinks awake to find Jon missing from the couch.

He leans over the fold-out to find Jon sitting on the ground beside it, knees folded under his chin and staring into nothing. “Jon?” he asks, voice soft with exhaustion and sleep. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t-” Jon’s voice hitches. “I can’t _ see _anything, anymore.”

Martin scrambles off the bed to sit beside Jon. “Jon, what do you mean, you can’t _ see _ anything?”

“I’m-” Jon goes silent for a moment. “I’m not _ hungry _ , anymore. And I don’t- I used to _ know _ , sometimes, that I could see something, but now- it’s all fading away. I don’t remember _ how _ \- everything I did, and I can’t even _ help _anymore-”

Martin quietly files away this new information, pressing down on the part of his brain that wants to ask for more information. “Jon,” he says instead. “You know you have talents other than your Beholding powers, right? You didn’t have them when you were starting out in the archives, and you didn’t have them in the beginning of-” he waves. “All this. You don’t need them to be useful. To be able to help.”

Jon grips at the fabric of his pajama pants. “But then what am I _ good _ for?” he asks, voice wrecked. “Martin- I ruined _ everything _ , and I know- I _ know _ it wasn’t my choice, and that I did my best, but that doesn’t stop the fact that I was the one who picked up Jonah’s statement, who kept reading even when I knew what it was. I _ failed _ , Martin. I was supposed- I was trying to save the world, and I ended up ending it.” he presses his face into his knees, voice thick with tears. “Martin- I failed _ you _ . We were _ happy _, and I-”

Martin interrupts him. “You know, it’s funny-” he smiles, because it’s easier than the hurt. “That day- when I looked up and saw the sky folding over on itself, blinking awake- all I could think was, _ we never even got to get married. _”

Jon curls into himself, and chokes on a sob. Martin moves to kneel in front of him and touches his face, his hair, the faded scars on his jaw. He loves this man so much, would’ve loved him even beyond monsterhood, if that was where he’d gone.

“And then, I found you on the ground, and I thought-” Martin cuts himself off. “And I _ prayed _ , Jon, I prayed that you would come back, even if you were a monster.” he inhales the cool night air, thinks about Jon taking his hand in the fog. “And you _ did _, Jon. You came back to me.”

He kisses Jon’s forehead, still smiling. “So you haven’t ‘failed’ me, because you being in this world was all I ever needed. You’re an idiot if you think anything else.” he kisses his eyelids, warm with the effort of crying. “And you haven’t failed the world, because you’re still here, trying to fix everything.”

Jon’s voice is soft, almost too quiet to hear. “What if we can’t?” he whispers, pulling Martin’s quiet worries out with it and into the dark.

“Then,” Martin thinks about Tim, who died not knowing that his sacrifice would be rendered void only a year later. About Sasha, who’d always been the most genuinely enthusiastic about the supernatural, and yet had died not truly knowing what had been hunting her. He thinks about himself and Daisy, both of them being rescued by Jon. The fact that all of them, every single one, had been lost and sometimes never found in order to fulfill the power fantasies of a withered corpse. He holds Jon a little firmer. “Then we would have tried,” he continues, and hopes that Jon hears everything he’s trying to say.

* * *

(v)

“So Jon is...normal, now,” Melanie says, mouth twisted in a complicated expression.

Jon nods. “I think- now that Eli- Jonah has done what he wanted, he didn’t need an Archivist anymore. A doorway isn’t useful after everyone’s gotten inside.”

“I hate to say it, but this is kind of a terrible time for you to lose your spooky stuff,” Basira comments.

Georgie interjects. “I mean, at least now we know that Jon won’t- go monster, or anything.”

“Still, considering that half the world is apparently after him, it would’ve been useful to have _ something _.”

Martin glances over at Jon, still hunched into himself, and speaks. “The thing is-” Martin hesitates over the words he’s been ruminating over all night. “I was thinking- why _ are _ all the avatars so hung up on Jon? I mean, it made sense before- but you’d think that, after the ritual-”

“- they’d be happy with him,” Basira finishes. “That’s...a good point.”

“Jonah said that Peter wasn’t a fan of his plan,” Jon says, slow. “Maybe- maybe he wasn’t the only one.”

There’s a moment of silence as they all consider this, before Melanie shakes her head.

“Well, if we’re doing this,” she says decisively. “I call dibs on _ not _ looking for Jude Perry.”

* * *

(vi)

Martin sees the Flesh avatar shift towards Basira a second too late.

“_ Basira- _” Martin slams his wrench into the thing moving to sink its teeth into his arm, not even wincing at the squelching sound that it emits as the metal sinks into flesh. Almost immediately, a row of teeth start growing in the place of the wound, but Martin has enough time to shake it off, begin to run towards her. 

Basira’s face turns towards his shout, and her eyes widen as her body instinctively moves to avoid the impact of a thousand limbs tearing at her flesh. Between that second and the next, the mass of writhing meat is on the ground, sharp talons pinning it in place.

Martin is shocked still for a second, trying to process. 

“_ Daisy! _” Basira is already running towards her, uncaring of the piles of viscera that she has to climb over to reach her goal. Martin and - he glances behind him - Jon are close behind, covering her back.

Daisy is crouched over the thing she just tore apart, teeth bared in a growl. She looks- different, her hair wild and growing all over her body, leaving her barely recognisable as Daisy at all. Her ears are sharper, her fingers and toes are- longer, sharper. From the shape of her silhouette, she seems to have far too many teeth. Martin and Jon stop a few steps back, glancing at each other warily. Basira doesn’t have any similar compunctions, moving towards the feral woman as if drawn by something more immutable than gravity.

She reaches Daisy, sho doesn’t so much as twitch in her direction. “Daisy,” she whispers again, like a prayer. She kneels at Daisy’s side, reaches towards her, unafraid.

Daisy snarls, and Martin starts to move forward, only for Jon’s hand to touch his elbow, stopping him. In front of them, Basira doesn’t seem bothered, only lays a hand on her shoulder. Then she reaches out her other hand, slides it across her back, and pulls her in.

Daisy starts writhing in her arms immediately, mouth snapping near her neck and talons digging their way into her arms, trying to push her away. Basira ignores the red dots beginning to seep through her shirt, ignores the graze of teeth against her neck, and holds her closer. Doesn’t let go.

“You found me again,” she murmurs, burying her face in the fur of Daisy’s shoulder. “Alice, I’m okay- you saved me- _ Alice- _”

Her voice dissolves into something too soft to hear as her hand slowly strokes the fur on Daisy’s back, hand trembling with relief rather than fear. Martin watches as Daisy’s growl soften, slow, stop. He watches as Daisy’s talons retreat, as the shape of her remolds itself into something human, as her hands come up to clutch Basira’s back, as the first tears start falling from her eyes.

“_ Basira _,” she gasps out, and Basira pulls away just far enough to clutch her face, kisses her.

“Alice,” she says, and begins to smile.

* * *

(vii)

It is a month after the end of the world when Martin turns to Jon and says "You know, we never actually managed to get married."

Jon pauses from where he's bandaging Martin's arm, dark red gashes fading into pink after a layer of wrapping. He opens his mouth, closes it.

"Well," he says, after a moment. "it's not exactly the most opportune time."

Martin smiles in concession. "True," his eyes flash with mischief. "That didn't stop you from proposing, though."

Jon flushes at the memory of the proposal. "Well," he coughs. "You do...have a point."

“And...” Martin looks away for a moment, thinks about his next words. “I don’t think we’re going to get an opportune time, anytime soon. And- Jon-” he hesitates. “I really want to marry you.”

When he looks up, Jon is looking at him, hands paused mid-movement and eyes wide.

“Martin,” he breathes out, and Martin tangles his fingers together.

“It’s just- we’re both human now, and I want- I want to do this, while we still can.”

Jon takes his hand, fingers cool and long tangled in his own. “We’re going to make it through this,” he promises, and Martin leans into his belief, cultivated so carefully and steadily over the time that they’ve spent navigating the end of the world together.

They spend a moment like that, quiet, before Jon brings Martin’s hand to his lips, presses a brief kiss there.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s do it”

* * *

(vii)

“I can’t believe you’re _ ordained _,” Martin mutters again, glancing at Melanie out of the corner of his eye. 

She grins in response. “You’d be surprised the kinds of things you learn to do as a Youtuber,” she says airily. “And besides, isn’t it good that your wedding’ll be official?”

Martin sweeps his eyes over the expanse of Georgie’s living room, the furniture shoved into corners and the couches shuffled to face the two of them. Daisy and Basira are the only ones actually sitting on one couch, leaving the other one completely bare. The christmas lights that Georgie had dug up from the closet bathe the room in pale white from where they’re hanging on the walls, and everyone in the room has at least one bandage on them.

“Yeah, official,” he says, dry. Melanie punches him in the shoulder.

“Be _ happy _,” she scolds. “You want this, don’t you?”

Martin watches as Georgie drags Jon out of her room, him looking frazzled and her grinning. He smiles. “Yeah,” he says, completely incapable of hiding the giddiness of his voice. “Yeah, I really do.”

Jon smiles a little when he reaches Martin, looking wry. His hair is neat for once, braided back with only a few grey strands brushing his face. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “Georgie insisted.”

Georgie winks at Martin from behind him, kisses Jon on the cheek, then Martin, then Melanie, before squeezing herself next to Daisy, who looks tired but content, bracketed by beloved people. Jon takes Martin’s hands and squeezes, and Martin squeezes back, smiling.

Melanie clears her throat. “Right,” she says. “So. Let’s get this started.”

She gestures at the two of them. “So we’re here because- well, because we live here, but also because these two idiots have decided on the worst possible time to get married, and none of us have anything better to do than to be here.”

“Is that in the _ script _?” Jon asks, sounding scandalized. Georgie is already giggling from the sofa, Basira muffling her own snickers into Daisy’s shoulder.

Melanie looks unrepentant. “What _ script _ , Sims? We don’t have the internet anymore, do you think I bothered to _ memorize _anything for your shotgun wedding?”

“That’s not-”

“Shut up, Jon,” she says. “I mean- don’t, you’re gonna have to make your vows, but because you’re interrupting the ordinator, I’m officially going to give Martin first dibs on vows.”

“_ Really, _” Martin manages to get out, after swallowing helpless laughter. “Oh my god, Melanie- okay! Okay! I’m doing it,” he looks away from her glare towards Jon. “Right,” he clears his throat, suddenly nervous. “Uh, hi, Jon.”

Jon smiles at him. “Hello, Martin.”

Martin takes a breath. “I was- so alone, for so long,” he says, smile wobbly on his face. “I never thought I’d be able to do this, you know? When I was- taking care of my mom, lying to everyone I meet, just trying to survive day by day, I honestly couldn’t imagine a future where I could- be with someone, without being afraid of being seen. And when I started working as your assistant, and started really experiencing the supernatural- well, I couldn’t imagine a future at all. But-” his breath hitches. “Jon, you _ saw _ me- no powers, no magic, just a letter you found that I’d left behind. Which, for the record, was still weird of you.” Jon laughs a little at that, eyes wet. “But you saw me, and you actually seemed to be okay with what you saw. And you kept looking for me, again and again, even when I pushed you away. You wouldn’t let me be on my own again.” he looks down, blinking rapidly. “And- seeing you in that hospital bed, after the Unknowing, was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. Seeing you unconscious on the floor after a giant eye started tearing up the sky _ was _ the most terrifying moment of my life. I don’t want- we’ve wasted so much time not being happy, I don’t want to waste any more.”

When he looks back up at Jon, he’s frowning at him, eyes red-rimmed. “For god’s sake, Martin,” he says, voice choked. “How am I supposed to follow that?”

Martin gives a watery giggle, and Melanie gives a subtle sniff before clearing her throat. “Honestly, I don’t think you can,” she says. “But you’re welcome to try.”

Jon gives her a completely ineffective withering look before turning back to Martin. “Martin,” he begins, “To be honest, I’m pretty sure that everything that I’ve wanted to say to you has been recorded on tape somewhere, but considering I didn’t have time to get my hands on them, I suppose I’ll have to condense dozens of rolls of tape into a few sentences.” his eyes are soft when they look at Martin, soft and open and utterly ordinary. “I- I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t have the most accurate first impression of you, and to be honest, I’m rather shocked that we made it past that at all, considering my...personality.” Martin snorts, remembering the early days of Jon recording rather scathing reports of him through extremely thin walls. “It speaks to the kind of person you are that you were kind to me anyways. You always believed in the best of me, even when I probably didn’t deserve it, and you always tried to take care of me, even if I didn’t appreciate it.” he tangles his fingers with Martin’s. “Peter told me once, when I was looking for you in the Lonely, that we were not looking for each other, but rather for the images of each other that we had constructed in our minds. That may have been true, at the time, but I would like to think that I have gotten to know you since, and I would like to keep on learning, keep on knowing you, for as long as you’ll allow me to. For as long as we have the chance to.”

He looks nervous as he finishes, and Martin tries to smile at him reassuringly through the tears rolling down his face.

Melanie wipes her own eyes with her sleeve. “_ Christ _, Jon,” she says. “Alright, now that the sappy stuff is over, you can-”

“Oh, wait!” Georgie hops up from her seat, runs into the kitchen, and comes back out with a fistful of something that she holds out to them- twist ties. “It’s not a wedding without rings,” she says, happy and a little teary.

Jon blinks at her. “Georgie, why do you _ have _ those?”

“I buy a lot of bread and forget to throw them away, shut up and give your husband a proper ring.”

Jon rolls his eyes, but picks a red tie from the pile. He takes Martin’s left hand in both of his, brows furrowed with concentration, and twists the tie onto his ring finger with careful movements. Martin watches him, chest tight with fondness. When he finishes, Martin picks out a matching red tie, twists it around Jon’s thinner finger, trying to tuck the ends in neatly the way Jon did. It looks a little more lopsided, but Jon seems pleased anyways, smiling as if Martin had just slid a gold ring onto his finger.

Then again, it’s _ Jon _, so maybe it really doesn’t matter. It certainly doesn’t for Martin.

Georgie steps away, Martin mouthing a silent _ thank you _ at her as she goes. Melanie waits a beat, then begins again. “Right, now that we’ve checked _ everything _ off the list- you guys can kiss.”

Martin is already pulling Jon in when’s she’s barely more than halfway done, meaning it when he says that he’s not going to waste any more time with him. Jon seems far too happy to follow his lead. Dimly, he hears clapping behind them, the sound of clapping, and cheers, and laughter.

And, for a moment, he forgets to feel afraid.

**Author's Note:**

> and that's all she wrote. please, please god let it be all that she wrote.


End file.
